Chapter 355: Xipeier's Sacrifice

The bridge of the "Lu Zuofu" was half destroyed.

The fire from the previous hit was contained, yet thick smoke still seeped into the bridge through damaged ventilation ducts, making breathing difficult. Fulangci Feng Xipeier leaned on the tilted chart table, covering his mouth and nose with a water‑soaked cloth, trying to filter the smoke.

Blood was still oozing from his forehead—cut by flying shrapnel in the earlier explosion, the wound shallow but the bleeding never fully stopped. After the ship's medical officer gave a simple bandage and suggested he go to the infirmary, he refused.

"In a situation like this, the commander must stay on the bridge," he said then, his voice so calm that even the medical officer dared not object.

Now, as he read the damage report handed over by the damage‑control officer, his heart sank a little more.

"Lu Zuofu damage report: forward Main Gun turret completely destroyed, B turret's rotation mechanism jammed, only X and Y aft turrets remain operational. Two hull breaches, total ingress over four thousand tons. Boiler room No. 3 completely destroyed, Boiler room No. 4 partially damaged. Current speed… maximum eighteen knots, but advised not to exceed sixteen knots, otherwise the breaches may enlarge."

Fulangci Feng Xipeier set the report aside and looked out the window. His battleship, Deguo's most advanced battlecruiser, now staggered like a crippled giant through the thick smoke and night. The hull visibly tilted to the left, each wave striking increasing the angle ever so slightly.

"Can we still fight?" he asked, his voice very soft.

The captain—a grizzled old navy Colonel—gave a wry smile: "We can fire, we can sail, but mobility… almost zero. Turning radius is double normal, acceleration takes three times as long. Commander, to be frank, Lu Zuofu is now a live target."

Fulangci Feng Xipeier nodded. He understood the unspoken words of the captain—under these conditions, if the ship were again covered by Yingguo's main fleet fire, Lu Zuofu could not last five minutes.

The communicator's red light suddenly lit up. It was the flagship's direct line.

Fulangci Feng Xipeier took the handset: "This is Xipeier."

"Fulangci." She Er's voice came through the handset, tinged with static but still clear, "I need you to make a decision. A difficult decision."

Fulangci Feng Xipeier listened in silence. Everyone on the bridge watched him, watching his expression shift from calm, to surprise, to solemn, and finally to an almost detached coolness.

"I understand." After hearing She Er's plan, Xipeier said only that.

He set the handset down, turned to face the officers on the bridge. The smoke blurred each face, yet he could see their eyes—young eyes, weary eyes, fearful eyes, but still loyal eyes.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice low yet clear to all, "Admiral She Er has a plan. A plan that can save the fleet, but requires our sacrifice."

He paused, letting the words sink into each mind.

"Yingguo now holds a perfect tactical position. They are like hunters encircling their prey, and we are the surrounded herd. To break this, the only way is to create chaos—distract the hunters, giving the herd a chance to break out of the encirclement."

He moved to the observation window, pointing at the faint muzzle flashes of Yingguo guns visible through the thick fog: "Each of those lights represents at least one heavy naval gun. Most now point at our main fleet. But if… if a sufficiently conspicuous Deguo fleet suddenly turned—not to flee but to charge the Yingguo, what would happen?"

The captain inhaled sharply: "You mean… a suicide charge?"

"It's a holding attack," Xipeier corrected, his tone offering little distinction, "using ourselves as bait to draw Yingguo fire. When their guns swing toward us, the main fleet will suddenly break out to strike, crashing into the middle of Yingguo's battle line. If successful, it will create a melee, break the T‑head formation, and then we can slip away under cover of night."

He surveyed the crew: "The bait fleet will be composed of the surviving ships of the scout fleet. And Lu Zuofu will serve as the flagship of that fleet."

A death‑like silence.

Then the artillery chief was the first to speak: "Commander, only two aft turrets of the Main Gun remain functional. And speed…"

"I know," Xipeier cut in, "Precisely because we are slow, precisely because we are heavily damaged, we are the best bait—Yingguo will think we cannot escape and will prioritize us. Moreover…"

He looked at the captain: "Do you recall what you just said? Lu Zuofu is now a live target. Since it's a target, let's make it a conspicuous one."

The captain fell silent. After a few seconds, he straightened his back and performed a crisp salute: "At your command, sir. Lu Zuofu will carry out the order."

The other officers also stood at attention. No cheers, no slogans, only a heavy, almost tragic resolve.

Xipeier nodded. He opened the ship‑wide broadcast, inhaling deeply—smoke tickled his throat, but he held back a cough.

"All hands, attention: I am fleet commander Xipeier."

His voice traveled through the loudspeaker to every corner of the warship, to the boiler rooms, to the magazines, to every occupied battle station.

"I know you are all exhausted, that you see our warship riddled with wounds. Yet the war is not over; our brothers—the entire Deguo open‑sea fleet—are still in danger."

He paused, choosing his words.

"Sometimes at sea, a warship's worth lies not only in how many enemies she can sink, but in how many allies she can protect. Today, Lu Zuofu has the chance to do just that. We can use ourselves as a shield to forge a path of survival for the entire fleet."

"This is not an easy order. I know many of you will be afraid, will wonder why us. I cannot answer that. All I can say is that, as soldiers, as the German navy, there are responsibilities we must bear."

His voice grew steadily firm.

"Therefore, I command: all personnel still capable of fighting, return to your stations. Load the Main Gun, ready the engines for full speed—though our full speed is limited. We will turn—not to flee but toward the enemy. We will charge the Yingguo fleet, using every remaining gun, every torpedo, even our hull itself, to draw their fire, to sow chaos, to create an opening for Admiral She Er's main force."

The broadcast was filled only with the hiss of electricity, yet Xipeier could picture it—boiler crews grinding through scorching heat, gunners loading Shells in smoke‑filled turrets, young signalmen trembling as they flashed light signals.